


Steve Rogers X Fem-Reader – I Didn’t See You

by writeyouin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Jealousy, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 01:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14201610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyouin/pseuds/writeyouin
Summary: Steve and the reader are best friends, but unfortunately he just sees her as "one of the guys." When she wants to be more, Steve gets a girlfriend. The reader is then torn between her own feelings and showing emotional support.





	Steve Rogers X Fem-Reader – I Didn’t See You

**Author's Note:**

> Request: can I request a Steve Rogers/Reader fic based off the song 'You Belong With Me' by Taylor Swift and if possible, 'Let It Go' by Passenger? Angst with fluff at the end.

You rang Steve’s phone for the third time, once again getting put through to the voice mail, his muffled voice came through the speaker, “(Y/N), how does this work?”

“You just speak into it and say leave a message after the beep.”

“Oh okay, now?”

“Yes, now.”

“This is Steve Rogers, please leave a message after the beep. Did I do it righ-” The phone beeped, ready to record your message.

“Call for the cap-man,” you joked lightly, masking your worry, “Did you forget that it’s history Friday or something. Come on Steve it’s time for us to catch you up on one of my films, then we watch one of yours, plus this week I got Thai food, you haven’t tried Thai yet. Look, just call me when you get this… unless your phone is off in which case you won’t get this but ring me when you can okay? It’s (Y/N) by the way,” you kicked yourself mentally, why had you mentioned your name like an awkward teenager, he knew who you were.

You waited another hour before giving up and packing everything away, opting to watch “An Officer and a Gentleman” on your own; the film didn’t make you feel better like you had hoped, instead it served as a painful reminder of your hidden feelings towards Steve.

“ _That’s okay though, Steve will have a good reason, I’m sure of it. Until then Richard Gere will never leave me, right Richard?_ ”

30 minutes in, the film was interrupted by urgent rapping at the door, you ran over to answer it, relieved to find Steve on the other side, a sheepish grin on his face.

“ _Good he’s ok, better than ok, he looks happy._ ”

“(Y/N), I wanted to apologise in person for not showing up tonight but my phone died and I couldn’t contact you where I was,” he spoke fast, clearly wanting to share his news.

The sheer sight of him is such a worked-up state made you forget your prior worry for him; it was replaced by a warm glow, one you always felt when he came to tell you his news first, “There’s nothing to apologise for Steve, come on through and we can talk about it; whatever it is.”

Getting comfy in the living room with hot drinks and a cushy sofa really set the scene, upon speaking his eyes lit up, much like they did during his stories about the old days, “I was heading over here when I saw two muggers attack Chardonnay-”

“Chardonnay? Is this a person or a bottle of wine?” You teased, ready to listen in to another one of his adventures.

“ **She**  is a very nice lady I’ll have you know,” he punched you lightly on the leg.

“Hitting a woman now are we? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’d been at the chardonnay.”

“You’re hilarious as ever, can I continue or do you have more wine puns stored away?”

“Oh I have more wine puns all right but please do go on, I’ll save them for a later date.”

He grinned, that beautiful, shining grin of his, “Well it was so weird because when I’d got rid of the muggers she asked if I wanted to go for a drink with her; I would have said no but I wanted to see her get there safe and then we just… hit it off. She’s incredible, intelligent, fun, talented.”

You tried to hide the sinking feeling in your stomach with a quip, “This a person or a resumé?”

“Laugh all you want but she’s just,” he sighed lightly, “I’m seeing her again on Tuesday.”

“Well that’s just-” you struggled internally, trying to keep your voice level, “Fantastic. I’m so happy for you Steve, you deserve this, honestly. So, um, is she pretty?” you feigned interest.

“Stunning. You know what, I was afraid you were going to be mad but here you are supporting me. Don’t ever change (Y/N), you’re just like one of the guys.”

His last sentence was meant as a compliment in reference to his old squadron and even though you knew how highly he thought of them it didn’t change the fact that the words stung, cutting deeply into your already scarred pride; you didn’t want to be “one of the guys”, you wanted to be a girl… his girl.

“So uh, you excited?”

“I can’t wait.”

“Great. You deserve this.”

The phone rang interrupting the conversation, you let it go straight to speaker knowing who it was, “Hey (Y/N), it’s Jackie. If you’re still interested in the transfer then we have a position in Woodbury, call back if you want it.”

Steve gave you a questioning glance, “You’re moving to Woodbury?”

“Nah, I asked for a transfer ages ago but I don’t want it anymore, I’ll ring back later and tell her that I’m staying here.”

“You had me worried there, after all what would I do without my wingman?”

“Become mopey and struggle with modern technology.”

“Why are we friends again?”

“Mainly for my knowledge of classic movies and my many puns.”

“That’s right, I’d be lost without those.”

From there the conversation tapered onto other subjects, more stories about the war, what had changed the most, what his dream date would be, and comparisons on what you would have liked to have seen; sometimes Steve would blush after one of his stories, knowing that he’d been speaking too fast or long on the subject but you’d counter it by smiling and encouraging him to tell you more, in all honesty you always ended up captivated by his stories, you could listen to him forever.

* * *

The weeks following Steve’s announcement began to feel lonely, he dropped by less and less, it was almost like he’d forgotten you completely; on the few occasions when he did come round it was like he’d never left, you laughed and joked as if it were the most natural, fluid thing in the world. The situation left you in two minds, one wanted to scream and shout, to show Steve that he should be with you; the other, much more reasonable, half wanted to be happy for your friend, to show him the support and love he deserved, even at the cost of your own happiness.

Then one day the pattern shattered. You were fast asleep when the mobile by your bedside rang, the Andrews Sisters rendition of “Bei Mir Bist Du Shein” rang loudly through the room alerting you that it was Steve calling; answering the phone you groggily spoke, “Steve?”

“Yeah (Y/N), it’s me,” his spoke quietly, as if he was trying not to get upset.

“Hang on… What time is it?”

“3 AM. Sorry, I shouldn’t have called. I’ll just go.”

“No, no, no,” you rushed, more alert to the sadness in his tone, “What’s wrong.”

“Nothing… Everything… I don’t know. Can I… Can I come over?”

“ **Yes,** get over here now and we’ll talk ok?”

“Yeah… thanks,” he hung up before you could respond; you were left rushing to get ready, a feeling of immense dread washing over you in sickening waves.

* * *

Steve arrived 15 minutes later looking more lost than you had ever seen him, his eyes were red and puffy with previously shed tears; you hugged him tightly making sure that he knew you were there for him with every fibre of your being, he responded by throwing his arms around you strongly and burying his head into the crook of your neck.

The two of you stayed there for a few minutes before you broke free and ushered Steve inside; as usual he reverted to his times’ standards of how a man should act by apologising for having an emotional outburst like that.

“Sorry (Y/N), I didn’t know where to go then I thought of you and it just made me feel… better somehow, does that make sense?”

You nodded silently, he had just perfectly described how you felt every time you were with him.

“You want to tell me what happened?” You prompted.

“Yeah, right,” he ran a tired hand through his hair, “It’s Chardonnay. I just- Sometimes I just can’t keep up with her, I think she wants one thing but then she gets annoyed and tells me it’s another. One minute I’m too clingy, then I’m too aloof and unreachable, sometimes I’m too much of a gentleman then the next I’m just… I have no idea how a man is supposed to act in this day and age; do you think - am I too broken for this?”

The way he looked up at you, with doleful eyes made your heart ache, you pulled him towards you, laying him down to stroke his hair as you did so, “Steve, you’re not broken, you’re just different; good different, I think more men should be like you.”

“ _Because you’ve stolen my heart,_ ” you thought morosely.

“Then what should I do?”

“You really like this girl?”

“More than I thought I would.”

“Then you change tactics.”

“Change tactics?”

“Yeah, find out from someone whether you’re coming on too strong or whether you’re too aloof then work things out from there. I know it’s tough to be both Captain America and Steve Rogers but if you really like her then you need to find a balance between the two.”

“Ok,” he lifted himself up from your lap, “I think I know what we need to do. (Y/N), will you come on a date with me and Chardonnay and tell me what I’m doing wrong?”

“Me!” You were incredulous, why did he have to ask you, the last thing you wanted was to meet the woman who he’d picked over you, “W-Wouldn’t you prefer Sam or I don’t know, Thor or something?”

“I know it’s a lot to ask but you’re a woman, you can see things that a man can’t.”

Pushing any selfish thoughts aside you reluctantly agreed, “Okay, anything for you buddy.”

“You’re the best,” he gave a small smile, “Hey you can even bring a date of your own.”

“Wonderful,” you faked, all the while thinking, “

 _Damn… Now I have to find a date, where the hell am I supposed to get one of those?_ ”

* * *

As it happened finding a date for the following Saturday was surprisingly easy; even if the Micah was the most arrogant, self-obsessed, womanizing prick you had ever had the misfortune of meeting. You looked around for Steve in the crowded bar while Micah stared lecherously at your breasts.

“(Y/N), over here,” Steve waved you over to a table past the bar; he was wearing the brown leather jacket you loved so much, as well as jeans, a baseball shirt, and trainers.

“Hey Steve,” you pecked him on the cheek, “Where’s Chardonnay?”

“She saw a friend outside, she’ll be right in though. So, what do you think of the place?”

Admittedly you thought the restaurant was overly posh and you’d rather be at a comfy café but wanting to show support you smiled and lied, something you’d been doing a lot of lately, “It sure is fancy.”

“Yeah well, Chardonnay picked it.”

Micah pinched your bottom sickly, “Hey sweet-cheeks, you gonna stand around gossiping all day or are you gonna introduce me.”

“Yes. Of course.” Your voice was tight with anger, “Steve, this is Micah. Micah, meet Steve.”

Micah held out his hand but Steve was already passing judgement on him, it was not proper to slap a ladies’ ass, especially when said lady was his best friend; he looked over to you and took Micah’s hand firmly, territorially.

“Pleasure,” he deadpanned, a frosty expression on his usually soft features.

Looking from one man to another, any fool could see the tension between them, their arms were tensed and neither seemed to be letting go of the other.

“Oh Stevey-babe,” a glitzy voice called over, breaking the tension.

You looked around for the source of the voice and that’s when you saw Chardonnay, the single most drop-dead gorgeous woman you had ever seen. She had stunning bronze skin, slender legs that seemed to never end, caramel hair that was perfectly styled in bouncy curls, and a short black cocktail dress that seemed to leave nothing to the imagination yet leave you wanting more at the same time.

You looked down uncertainly at your own hastily assembled outfit which was comprised of a Hufflepuff T-shirt, jeans, and scuffed boots; as if that wasn’t enough you had no makeup on and your hair had been rather uncooperative, leaving strands sticking up all over the place.

“Ah,” Steve visibly lit up and upon releasing Micah from his vice-like grip he began to introduce Chardonnay, “(Y/N),  **Micah,** this is Chardo-”

“ **I**  can introduce  **myself**  thank you very much,” she growled, then turning to face you she beamed innocently as though the transaction had never happened, “I’m Chardonnay but you can call me Char, ok.”

“ _Oh god, did she just do jazz hands? Really? For an introduction? Are we in a production of Chicago?_ ” Your inner monologue rambled sarcastically.

You clenched your jaw, “Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N), this is Micah. Steve has told me so much about you.”

“He has,” she squealed, “Isn’t he just the sweetest, though I’m afraid I don’t recall him mentioning you.”

“I’ve told you about (Y/N),” Steve jumped in, “Remember, I told you how we met at Stark industries.”

“Oh! How silly of me, you’re that (Y/N).”

“ _Like he knows more than one…_ ”

“In that case we should get better acquainted.”

20 minutes into the meal, if the miniscule portions could even be called that, and the very last thing you wanted to do was become more acquainted with “Char”, who had done nothing but brag about herself and berate Steve for being himself; in a last ditch attempt to help, you had set him up to tell one of his funnier squadron stories but Chardonnay had shrugged it off stating “No one wants to hear a story about a bunch of old dead guys.”

With a pained expression Steve excused himself to go to the bathroom, closely followed by Micah.

You didn’t know whether to be mortified at being left alone with Chardonnay or happy that you could have a private word with her on Steve’s behalf.

“So um… Char,” the name felt acidic in your throat, “What do you think of Steve?”

The caramel beauty seemed annoyed that she should have to continue her act when the men were gone but complied anyway, “He’s a peach isn’t he, so handsome and widely desired too,” she gushed.

“Widely desired?” you growled.

“Yeah,” she was now admiring her reflection in a compact.

Grabbing the small mirror, you snapped it shut to strengthen your next point, “Look Char,” you threw in a warning smile for good measure, “Steve really likes you and I can see why,” yet another lie, “but he isn’t some trophy to be won, he’s-”

“I’m going to stop you there honey,  **all**  men are prizes, if you start treating them like people then they’ll walk all over you, got it?”

You were left speechless, the sudden change in character was overwhelming.

“Don’t look at me like that, Stevey-babe just needs to be more full on, you know? Less feelings, more passion. Besides, someone that hot has to be great in the sack right.”

“ _I could shoot her, I have level 5 clearance, it would be wiped from the record and no-one would know,_ ” instead of saying what you were thinking you opted with, “I’m just going to say this once; you need to realise that Steve is from a different time, one where you don’t just sleep with someone, you make-love to them when you’re ready. What I’m saying is you can’t rush him, don’t use him and throw him away, please don’t hurt him.”

The little speech was received with an obnoxious giggle, “Make love. What are you, 12? Steve is mine now, if he doesn’t want change then he doesn’t have to have to but  **all** men want sex and they’ll do anything for it, even change.”

**STEVE’S POV**

Steve stared long and hard at his reflection hoping to God that you were getting some useful “girl talk” from Chardonnay.

Micah appeared next to him and began speaking, “Hey man, I don’t wanna be known as the guy who pissed off Captain ‘merica, so I just wanna say sorry for earlier. Dunno what I did to upset ya but let’s start again, names Micah, good to meet ya.”

Steve observed the men, surprised and ashamed that he’d made harsh judgements before really getting to know the man; after all, if he was good enough for you then that should have been enough.

“It should be me apologising, sorry, I think I passed judgement a little too early, it’s just that (Y/N) means a lot to me,” he replied amiably.

“Ain’t no problem man, so what do ya think they’re talkin’ bout in there?”

“Hopefully, girl-talk.”

“Ha yeah. I’ll tell you for nothin’ that there girl of yours seems like a real firecracker.”

“Yeah, she sure is,” Steve laughed.

“I’ll bet she’s great at bedroom rodeo too if you catch my drift.”

Steve’s smile vanished instantly, “I uh- wouldn’t know.”

“Really? Then you should find out,” Micah continued, oblivious to Steve’s irritation, “I’m gonna test out (Y/N) tonight if all goes accordingly.”

“What!”

“You know, don’t buy the cow if you can get the milk for free.”

Hearing the man talk about you with such blatant disrespect and lust drove Steve to do something he’d never planned; he threw one swift punch, knocking Micah to the ground and breaking his nose in the same turn. One look at the man showed that he wasn’t going to get back up tonight, “

 _No one talks about my girl that way – wait I mean ‘my’ in the friend way, she’s not mine, she’s - Urgh, never mind, better get someone to collect this guy_ ” the thoughts served only to confuse Steve while he headed off to find a staff member, “ _It was just the adrenalin, that’s it the adrenalin._ ”

 

**YOUR POV**

Steve shuffled back into the booth, leaving you to look around for Micah, “(Y/N), Micah got a phone call and had to leave, he asked me to apologise on his behalf, want me to walk you home tonight?”

One cocky glance from Chardonnay told you what you had to say, “Oh um, it’s really no problem Steve, you go back with Chardonnay, I’ll make my own way back.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, of course. Just cause my date didn’t pan out doesn’t mean yours doesn’t have to, I’ll text you when I’m back,” you gave him a meaningful glance.

“Right, ok. I’ll see you later.”

“Nice to meet you Chardonnay, remember what I said.”

“Oh I will sweetie, same applies to you,” she gave you a look which only women understood, the hating each other in silence glare.

* * *

Once you’d got home you sent a cursory text to Steve which got a reply back about a minute later:

“So what do I have to do?”

You cursed inwardly, summoning up the nerves to lie again, “ _I should just tell him. Tell him what? That his girlfriend’s a bitch or that I love him? Oh yeah, that would go down a treat, by the way Steve not only is this woman you love just using you in the worst possible way but I’ve been in love with you for a seriously long time and I wish you’d see me._ ” Your hands hovered over the phone, unsure of what to send, “ _What if I can’t do it anymore… I thought I could just be his friend but… why is this so hard? I can’t even tell him about Chardonnay, what if he doesn’t believe me? I can’t watch him pick her over me, not after all this time together – he’s a grown man, he’ll just have to learn about her on his own._ ”

“Don’t know what to tell you, you acted without fault,” you sent.

“Did she say anything?”

You cursed once again then sent two words, “Take charge.”

* * *

It was almost a month till you saw Steve again; he came over at 11:00 pm looking more different than you could have imagined; his hair was slicked back with gel, he wore skinny jeans with a plaid shirt but the biggest change of all was that there was no trace of his usual, sweet smile.

You didn’t know whether to crack a joke or comfort the poor guy, the heavy atmosphere however told you to wait for him to say something.

“…Hi,” it seemed to be all he could manage.

“Steve, um, what… what are you doing here?”

“I – Chardonnay wasn’t in, I just… wanted someone to talk to,” While you had been lying for months, this was the first lie Steve had told, Chardonnay was in but for some reason unbeknownst to him he had come over to you instead.

“Sure buddy, come on in.”

He gave a small smile at the warmth in your voice. Upon following you in, the problems of the outside world almost vanished completely; his smile was almost back but to you it still wasn’t the bright smile you knew and loved, it was faded, like he’d forgotten how to be himself.

Wanting to cheer him up you had an idea, “Hey Steve, help me clear out the dining room,” you ordered.

“Wha- why?”

“Because I said so, now get moving, just put the table and chairs into the kitchen, I’ll be right back.”

You ran upstairs hurrying to get back down as fast as you could, a large gramophone in your arms, Steve looked at the relic in shock, quickly recovering to take it off you like the gentleman he was raised to be.

“Thanks,” you huffed, “Just pop it in the kitchen and we can play it.”

“You mean it works?”

“Yeah, I’ve been working on it for ages now, I didn’t want to tell you till I found the parts to finish it but then you didn’t come round and well – never mind, you’re here now, care to do the honour?”

An elated laugh escaped him, he played the record that was resting on the machine, Vera Lynn’s “We’ll Meet Again” gently floated through the air, crackling softly in a few places.

“(Y/N), this is amazing, you’re amazing. Something’s missing though.”

He pulled you close, placing your left hand on his shoulder and taking the other in his hand, he then proceeded to place his remaining hand on your waist; the small movement sent a tingle up your spine, you felt a little sick yet euphoric simultaneously.

“You can’t have music without dancing,” he spun you round suavely, then began slow dancing once you’d returned to your original position.

As the song went on the two of you had got unconsciously closer to one-another, by the end you weren’t so much dancing as gazing into each other’s eyes whilst spinning slowly, there wasn’t even an inch between you.

“ _This is it, now’s the time,_ ” the thought struck with indisputable clarity.

You linked your arms around his neck and pulled him into an unexpected kiss, how you wished it could be said that the kiss was a magical moment of epic proportions, that it made your breath hitch, that your heart almost stopped at that moment; none of that could be said though, for Steve pushed you away, breaking the kiss as soon as it had started.

“(Y/N),” he panted, his eyes reflecting the bewilderment he was feeling, “Wha- What are you doing?”

You stood stock still, using your hands to cover your mouth.

“I have a girlfriend (Y/N), I thought you understood that. If you felt anything towards me then you had a million opportunities, why now?”

You forced the bile that was burning your throat away, then spoke in a shuddery voice, “Steve, I am  **so, so**  sorry. I don’t know what happened I just -”

When you didn’t finish the sentence Steve spoke up again, walking away as he did so, “I should go, I have to go and see – uh – Chardonnay.”

“So she can change you some more?” you grumbled aloud.

Steve gave you one final glance then left, slamming the door behind him; you waited till you could no longer hear his motorbike before sliding down the wall, sobbing loudly.

* * *

**STEVE’S POV**

Steve stared up at the bedroom ceiling blankly, he definitely regretted his actions, the trouble being that he didn’t know which actions he regretted, had breaking from the kiss been a mistake? But if he’d continued the kiss then he would have been dishonourable, right? If it was right then why did it feel all wrong? He looked around the room, noticing for the first time how many memories of you were in there, the leather jacket he knew you loved, picture reels from photo booths with the two of you pulling funny faces, a signed 1942 baseball which you’d given him for his birthday without knowing it was signed by the opposing team but Steve had laughed it off and kept it anyway; what did he have to show of his so called “relationship” with Chardonnay, hair gel and clothes that he loathed.

He covered his eyes with his hand, “I’ve been a complete idiot. Stay where you are (Y/N), I’m coming for you.”

Then running to grab his jacket and keys he sped onto the motorway, leaving nothing else to chance.

 

**YOUR POV**

You were in the study upstairs packing books into boxes, your face covered in ugly, red blotches when the downstairs door slammed open; it was soon followed by Steve’s voice calling out desperately “(Y/N), (Y/N), I need to talk to you, I-” he found you in the study, running over to envelope you in a crushing hug.

You broke down in an emotional overload, sadness taking the lead, he held you until you stopped shivering, “Ste-ve I-” your words were broken up by breathless gasps.

“I know, but don’t talk, just listen. I am so sorry, I’m sorry for not realising how I felt sooner, I love you (Y/N), I’ve loved you for a really long time but I was too blind to see it until I lost you, I don’t know why but I didn’t see you, I’m sorry; It’s so much to ask but please, let’s try this, together.”

“Wh-at about Char-donnay,” your breathing was slowly returning to normal.

“I just broke up with her, that’s why it took me so long to get here, I have no idea what I was thinking, I don’t love Chardonnay, I don’t even like her.”

“That’s go-od, I was afraid th-at you were going to be-come a wino.”

He gave a nervous half laugh, “Really? Now? Now you pull out a wine pun?”

“I told you before I have plenty.”

“Come here.”

He pulled your face to his, securing it in place with two strong hands, then you had the show stopping kiss you’d been waiting for. Your lips moulded to his perfectly, your heart soared in your chest, and the intimate, trusting, love that had been built through the years made itself known in that one perfect moment; for the first time ever, you were Steve’s girl.


End file.
